


Push Comes to Shove

by boxparade



Series: Transformative [5]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Coming Out, Funny, M/M, Pre-Slash, Team Dynamics, Trans Character, at least I think it's funny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 10:08:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4915423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boxparade/pseuds/boxparade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny blames the lack of coffee, the strangeness of the day, the late hour, and the full moon for his less-than-attentive conversational skills.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Push Comes to Shove

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all!
> 
> Sorry about the slow update, life gets busy, etc etc, poor excuses go here. Still actively working on this series though, so no worries. I'm just not working on it in the order I need to. xD Or at the pace I wish I could be.
> 
> So this one is light-hearted. Because I like light-hearted, and because you don't see enough of it in the real world.
> 
> As always, don't be a douche. Douches are unhealthy, and no one likes that. :)
> 
> Comments & questions always welcome!

Steve gets an A for effort, all things considered. After all, he _did_ apprehend the perp. Even if it was following a mile-long chase through downtown Honolulu, on foot, and the guy wound up flashing every innocent civilian on the way with his bitten-off, bloody junk. What was Steve supposed to do, politely ask the serial rapist to put on some clothes and maybe a bandage before he ran from the cops? It was only because of the bath salts the guy _could_ run, or even stand, after the number that victim pulled on him.

It’d been a hell of a day, was the point. Steve had come back to HQ pale as a ghost and of even fewer words and grunts than usual, which meant he was below even Neanderthals on the communication scale. Kono and Danny practically forced him out the door, telling him he’d done his part, they’d take care of the paperwork and he should go home until he stopped impersonating Casper the Queasy Ghost.

Chin had a couple of touch-and-go moments with the trash bin, but he pulled through, and is currently slogging through paperwork for other, backlogged cases in his office. Kono and Danny, as the last ones standing, are currently hashing out the rest of the case around the computer table.

Danny blames the lack of coffee, and the strangeness of the day, and the late hour, and the full moon for his less-than-attentive conversational skills. And the kicker is, if he’d slipped up in front of anyone other than Kono, he wouldn’t be gearing himself up to have this conversation right now.

It went something like this:

Kono was flipping through the pictures of the case, putting them into chronological order so they could compress them into the file and send it off to the place where closed case files go. This means adding and ordering the photos taken of the scene as they found it, the chase, and the arrest, of which there are way too many—Danny never knew how many people had such a sick sense of humor until the invention of smartphone cameras. Kono, because she is a fearless being of otherworldly strength, plows right on in to the photo spread, every angle in shining, bloody glory, courtesy of The Adoring Public.

Danny is distracted by how much he wants to vomit when Kono says “You know, right now I am very glad I don’t have a dick.”

Danny, who is coffee-less, sleep-less, normalcy-less, and also dick-less, says “Same.” Before he can think better of it. Before he can even process what it is he’s agreeing to.

Danny is going to have to find a way to make this Steve’s fault. Otherwise it is going to be lorded over him for the rest of existence.

“What,” Kono says.

“What,” Danny parrots back, attempting not to broadcast sheer panic and mostly failing.

Kono narrows her eyes and cocks her head to the side. Danny feels like prey. Like very small, furry, squeaking prey. It’s terrifying.

“I was...sympathizing?” He tries. He can’t quite say it without wincing at how awful the lie is. Forget making this Steve’s fault, Danny’s not going to get the chance. Steve is going to kill him. Danny makes this big fuss about coming out on his own terms, at his own pace, which meant ‘not right now, Steve, okay? Not even to the team.’ And then he goes and screws himself over. With _Kono,_ no less. Kono the bloodhound. “I don’t know why I said that,” Danny says, floundering. He inches around the corner of the computer table so he can put something physical between him and Kono, like distance will make her any less perceptive or bloodthirsty.

“Why are you being weird?” Kono questions, and Danny knows it’s rhetorical so he shuts his mouth before he can dig himself any deeper.

But apparently he has slightly overestimated Kono’s prowess, or maybe just forgotten that “TRANSSEXUAL” is not the first thing that pops into anyone’s head in this situation. Not that all that many people wind up in situations with coworkers involving pictures of recently-castrated serial rapists streaking. Actually, Danny is 99.9% certain that has never happened to anyone but them. Because they’re Five-0. And they’re just that _lucky._

“You should be grateful. Perpetually grateful,” Kono says, a hint of darkness coloring her words, making her sound a lot like the villain giving their winning monologue. “You have no idea, brah. Female anatomy? Fuckin’ sucks.”

Danny would laugh at the pure irony if he weren’t completely shell-shocked by the fact that he was actually getting slapped with this conversation right now.

“Cravings. Blood stains on _all_ your nice clothes. Period cramps. I’ve had gunshot wounds that hurt less, brah.”

Danny doesn’t dare open his mouth, even to gape, for fear that he might actually start hysterically laughing at Kono while she’s trying to put the fear of God in him. God and Female Anatomy. This shit never happened in Jersey.

Kono slaps her hands down on the computer table and leans forward, pinning Danny with her glare. “Childbirth.”

“Alright hold up,” Danny blurts out, and he’s not entirely sure he made any sort of decision to say anything, but there is a kind of sweet, unadulterated irony here that would be criminal to pass up without acknowledging. And he kind of wants to see the look on Steve’s fact when he tells him how this went down.

Kono looks furious but amused, like she’s the Queen and he’s the jester that just interrupted her Reign of Terror Speech with the opening of a knock-knock joke.

“One,” Danny holds up a finger, “You have not had a child. You do not get to speak about the pain and horrors of childbirth until you have actually experienced it.”

Kono opens her mouth to fight him, but he’s on a roll, and he’s never gonna do this if he doesn’t keep going.

“Two, unlike cramps, gunshot wounds can _actually kill you,_ so C minus for comparison points. Three,” he holds up a third finger, and then puts his hand down because he was starting to feel ridiculous, “You have no idea who you’re up against right now, sweetheart, because I went through thirteen hours of labor _without drugs_ because the nurses got so hung up on the beard that they forgot to give me an epidural.”

Danny stops talking before he gets so worked up that the entire city hears him, and Kono stares for about five seconds before bursting into uncontrollable, gut-clenching, gasping-for-breath laughter.

“Okay, I may have gotten ahead of myself,” Danny mutters, completely drowned out by Kono’s peals of laughter. He taps his foot and waits for her to calm down enough that she’s at least upright again, even if she’s still breathless and there are beads of tears at the corners of her eyes.

“Brah, I know we’re cops, but you _gotta_ share whatever you’ve been smoking.”

“Hilarious,” Danny says, deadpan, but he’s got a hint of a smile on his face that he can’t quite hold back. “Except I’m serious. I do not even think you can comprehend how ridiculous this is. My life is the ultimate definition of ‘Problems with Female Anatomy’. Inside I am laughing hysterically right now. There’s a part of me that just suffocated to death. From laughter. I kid you not.”

“What the hell are you—”

“Me,” Danny points at himself, then does a little whirley-loop with his finger. “Trans.”

Kono takes a breath and then closes her mouth, frowning. She cocks her head to one side, then to the other side, then comes back to the middle and leans forward, way too far into Danny’s personal space, and squints at him. Danny’s almost sure she actually _sniffs_ him, but he convinces himself he’s paranoid and that Islanders are not actually feral animals, with the obvious exception of Steve.

Kono pulls back, crosses her arms, and then eloquently says “Huh.”

“You know, Steve said the exact same thing. Is there some sort of code I’m not aware of? When Hawaiians grow up do they get a little pamphlet that tells them how to disregard police procedure and fling themselves into the ocean on scraps of wood and respond with ‘huh’ when their coworkers come out?”

“Nah, bro, we’re all born knowing how to surf. The rest comes in pre-school.” Kono gives him a cheeky grin. Danny gives her one right back—a sarcastic one with his head shaking no. “So you for real?” Kono goes on, eyes wide and eager, like she’s just been given a new toy, and Danny feels the fear from earlier creeping back in. “Rocked the baby-belly beard combo punch?”

“I contest your use of the word ‘rocked’, but yes.”

“Brah,” Kono says in true, drawn-out beach bum style, “That sucks.”

“So much,” Danny says with another sarcastic smile that he keeps plastered to his face even when he adds on, “And no, you can’t see the pictures. I burned them all.” Rachel, being from hell and all, is impervious to fire, but Kono does not ever need to know these things.

Kono pouts a little at the lost blackmail material, and then punches Danny on the arm in what she thinks is solidarity but is actually more just solid, and with enough force to be painful. “Well, hey, at least we’ll never go down in a blaze of glory like Mr. Naked Mile over here.” She nods her head toward the display screen, which still has the photo spread of their streaker on it, and Danny feels his stomach do flip-flops.

“Oh my God, please just zip that up and send it off. No one needs to see that many angles of this guy’s junk.”

“What’s left of it, anyway,” Kono says, her nose scrunched up, and then minimizes the photos and zips the entire file to send through the secure servers for some lucky soul at HPD to open right after their lunch break.

Danny privately breathes out a sigh of relief, both at the disappearance of the photos and the fact that Kono continues to be cooler than him about pretty much all things, but when he glances up Kono is smiling at him. And not in her usual I-know-something-you-don’t way, but in a sincere way, like she’s glad she gets to know Danny.

“Hey, so who’s in the secret club?” she asks, perking up. “Who’s got the skinny? Who’s riding the trans-train, the Express Yourself Express, the—”

“An entire surf lesson without complaining if you stop right now.”

Kono stops, but she’s still grinning like she could start back up the second Danny bitches during their next lesson. She’s the type who remembers ridiculous things like that. Because she’s evil.

“And on the island? It’s you, Steve, Rachel, and Grace. And probably Max, because he has access to my medical files.” Danny hadn’t really thought about it, but Max is exactly the sort of person who would have known from the start and not reacted at all, ever, unless explicitly asked. It would probably break the entire scientific field of Statistics if Max didn’t know.

“Not Chin?” Kono asks, with a frown and a brief glance toward Chin, sitting in his office, peacefully unaware of everything going on out here.

Danny shifts side to side.

“C’mon, Danny! You know he’s cool, right? You gotta tell him, it’s gonna kill me trying to keep this from him. He’s ohana. Your ohana too.”

Danny sighs and gives Kono a despondent look. “Fine.”

Kono grins. It’s so bright Danny’s fairly sure she’s started retaining all that Hawaiian sun she soaks in all day. Or maybe she’s radioactive. “Come on, we’ll tell him right now,” she says, grabbing him around the wrist and dragging him toward Chin’s office. “I’ll pretend I don’t know and you’ll tell us together, it’ll be great.”

Danny groans.

He did not sign up for this. He legitimately did not sign up for any of this. Steve used his stupid immunity and means to drag him onto this task force. He was not complicit at all.

This is all _entirely_ Steve’s fault.

 

###

 

“Damn, really? I had no idea, Danny. Thank you so much for trusting us enough to tell us this.”

Danny stares blankly at Kono, trying to figure out if it’s even worth telling her she just gave a shit performance, or if it was so bad she already knows.

Chin looks between the both of them, analytical and sharp, before he turns to Danny and says “You already told her, didn’t you?”

“Yep,” Danny says.

“This was her idea.”

“Yeah.”

“Thought so,” Chin says simply, and then claps Danny on the shoulder. “Anyway, thanks for telling me. If you’ll excuse us,” Chin says, brushing past Danny to hook Kono around the arm and start dragging her from the office, “I’ve gotta give my cousin a crash-course on acting. And ethics.”

“What?” Kono says, doing a relatively good mock-surprise. Now her acting skills kick in. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She shoots Danny a damsel-in-distress look that is maybe one step less convincing than if it were Steve looking at him like that. “Danny, you’re a man, I’m in distress. Save me!”

Danny claps a hand over his eyes and groans. Kono keeps whining as Chin drags her away.

“Sorry, brah,” Chin says over his shoulder, just louder than Kono’s exaggerated struggle, “I think she’s adopted.”

“Where are you taking me?” Kono asks, dragging her heels just before they hit the doors out of HQ.

“Back to the store we got you from,” Chin’s voice drifts in, just before the doors shut behind them and Danny is left alone in an empty, silent headquarters.

Danny briefly, gleefully considers torching the place, but then he remembers that the Governor is probably the only human being more difficult to deal with than his team.

Danny hates this freaking island.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: If anyone knows a magic trick to keeping my italicized text when pasting from my document to the AO3 rich text box, please please tell me! Right now I have to go back through and re-italicize everything manually, and considering I have 130,000 words of unrelated fic I'm hoping to publish soon, that's not going to be an option. o_o
> 
> A/N2: Just added it to the rest of the series. I did that the first go round but apparently it didn't stick. -_- Apologies to anyone who read this and got confused.


End file.
